Couplet
by TheRealLoisLane
Summary: This is Martha's POV to 'And Then There Were Two', the sequel in the 'Lilies' saga.
1. Chapter 1

so, i was too excited about this to wait to write it. this is Martha's POV to **And Then There Were Two**, the second installment in the **Lilies** saga. as with Chloe's POV in **Something For Lois** in the first installment, this should run around five chapters or so.

i hope you enjoy and thanks for continuing to follow this saga.

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**Author:** Alison

**Disclaimer:** Characters belong to DC, CW, AlMiles, etc., etc., etc. I only own the story, so please don't take that away from me. My cat met Keith Urban as he walked out the front door of the Fabulous Fox Theatre after the fan club concert in Atlanta a couple of weeks ago. I was waiting around the corner by his bus. She's still rubbing it in my face.

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**Part 1**

She didn't notice everyone leaving. She barely felt the harsh cold or the light snow falling softly around her.

The only thing left to feel was the emptiness.

Her tears, what few she had left in her to cry, were frozen to her cheeks. The tissue clutched tightly in her hand dabbed gently at her nose as she watched the casket sink farther into the ground.

Her son stood motionless beside her. He hadn't said much all day but when he did, it was to say how much he regretted he couldn't do more to save his father. He still believed it was entirely his fault his father was gone.

She walked slowly around the grave, lightly touching the top of the headstone as she passed. She looked up at her son, but he never glanced her way. He slowly stooped and grasped a handful of dirt, gently sprinkling it over his father's casket as it drifted slowly into the earth.

He stood and briefly looked at his mother.

What were they to do now? How do you go on from here? What do you do when the one constant thing in your life is suddenly gone?

She was about to turn and walk away when he suddenly knelt back down and plucked a lily from a nearby arrangement. He held it softly to his nose and closed his eyes before tossing it in the grave on top of the casket.

She didn't know how to go on. She didn't know where to go. Should she go home? Should she go to the store? They needed milk. And she needed to pick up something from the hardware store to fix that porch light. She should've made a list.

What was important anymore?

She certainly didn't feel as if her life mattered much anymore. Not without him. She'd lost him. It was too soon. It was just too soon.

She'd told her son that his father had lived a good long life. She'd said he'd used his heartbeats more than anyone else she'd ever known.

But in reality, she wished his heart could've beat forever.

He was her best friend. She loved him more than she ever dreamed. They were soul mates, even if they didn't come across as the most romantic star-crossed lovers who ever lived.

But she loved him and she always knew he loved her, too.

The soft touch on her shoulder shook her from her thoughts and told her it was time to go. If he were still alive, he'd want her to go, too. There was nothing more she could do there anyway.

Clark walked her to the car and opened the passenger door. She got in and he gently closed the door.

The ride home was filled with random thoughts and memories. Flashes of him working on the tractor, baling hay, and playing football with Clark danced through her mind. She smiled faintly when, just a few weeks ago, he showed up late one night at the Talon with some flowers and a pizza. She'd called him to say she'd be working late to catch up on some bookkeeping. An hour later he was standing in the middle of the Talon.

She missed that. She missed his spontaneity. For all his stubbornness and resistance to change, he was still spontaneous when it came to being romantic.

From the first moment she saw him in college, when she asked to borrow his notes for class, even though she was the official class note taker, she knew she loved him. Her first thought, even then was, "I hope he marries me."

And he did.

She didn't realize they were home until Clark opened her door. She stepped out and stood next to the car as he closed her door. He never said a word, but hung his head and walked to the barn. She didn't know what more she could say to him. It was probably best to let him be, at least for now.

The snow was still falling steadily. She blinked slowly as the flakes gently hit her face. The bright yellow farmhouse was so pale against the snow. It was as if it, too felt his loss.

She glanced around the farm. The calves in the field seemed to be enjoying the fresh snow as they romped and jumped through the drifts. The gate leading into the hay field swung softly on its hinge in the light wind.

The snow made everything appear somewhat ethereal. She couldn't hear anything as she watched the snow fall silently around the farm. Their farm. His farm.

She looked back at the house. The light was on in the kitchen. Someone was obviously home. Was it wrong that she secretly wished it was him?

She'd never again come home to him. She'd never see his smiling face or kiss him as she walked through the door after a long day of working at the little coffeehouse.

She'd never…

Wiping the tears that'd silently begun to fall, she slowly stepped through the snow and up the steps of the old house. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she grasped the doorknob. She slowly opened the door and stepped across the threshold, opening her eyes and staring at the floor.

Instantly, she was in his arms, just back from their honeymoon, as he carried her across the threshold into their home for the first time.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Kent." He smiled and leaned towards her, passionately kissing her. He set her down and she pulled him closer to her. "I love you, Martha. And I will until the end of time."

She smiled and kissed him softly, then whispered in his ear.

"I know."

He smiled and picked her up, both laughing as he carried her up the stairs.

"Mrs. Kent, let me take your coat."

The scene faded around her. He was gone. There was no more laughing. There were no more kisses. There was no more.

She could feel her coat being removed. Her arms slowly pulled out of the sleeves as she clung tightly to the tissue she'd had all morning. She couldn't move. She didn't know how.

"There's plenty of food if you're hungry. You probably haven't eaten all day. There's everything from ham and vegetables to cake and brownies."

It's not that she didn't hear Lois. She did. But she just didn't want to talk. She just didn't want to do anything.

Anything, that is, except remember.

She kept her eyes to the floor as Lois hung her coat on the hall tree in the living room.

"Where's Clark?"

The mention of her son's name made her glance up momentarily at the young woman.

"I think he went up to his loft."

"Oh, okay." Even though she was in a completely distraught state of mind, the disappointment in Lois's voice didn't go unnoticed. "Well, would you like anything to eat? There's tons of food here and I think there's even more in the freezer that could be thawed. You know, people will bring anything by, even--"

"Lois." She held up her hand. "Thank you for all you've done, but I think I'm just gonna go to bed. I've got a headache and I'm just not hungry."

She was grateful for all Lois had done, but at the moment, she just wanted to be alone. She walked to the stairs as Lois spoke.

"Okay. I'll just put some of it away. Should I go see if Clark wants anything?"

It honestly didn't matter. She knew her son. If he wanted food, he'd come looking for it.

She stopped at the first step, placed her hand on the railing and turned to face Lois.

"If you want. He hasn't said a word since this morning. So, I doubt you'll get anything out of him."

She just couldn't deal with it right now. She'd just buried her husband. There was more on her mind than food right now. It just wasn't important.

Gradually, she made her way up the stairs, turning down the hallway at the top of the landing. She was dreading it as she reached the doorway.

Her hand gently rested on the doorframe as she brought her other hand, still holding the tissue damp with her tears, to her chest.

The bedroom was dark. She could see the snow fall in the evening light as it filtered through the cold window panes.

She walked into the room and across to her dresser. Reaching for her earlobes, she took off her earrings and laid them on the antique mirror. Her eyes drifted over to their wedding picture. He stood so proud in his rented tux. She fought so hard to get him to wear it that day. He wanted to wear a simple suit, but she managed to talk him into something a little nicer. The tears began to fall again as she'd give anything now to let him wear that ragged suit.

She sat on the edge of the bed and unzipped her boots, still wet from the deep snow. They dropped to the hardwood floor as she spun around and lay on the bed, turning towards the center and bringing her knees to her chest.

His smell was still there. She closed her eyes and laid her hand on his pillow. She openly began to sob, lightly balling her fist and hitting his pillow. The frustration, coupled with distress and grief, overwhelmed her. She still didn't understand why he was gone, especially at a time in her life when she needed him most. Everything she knew was changing. She didn't know if she could handle raising Clark alone. She didn't know if she could go on living alone.

He'd want her to be strong. He'd tell her that she could survive. She didn't always believe him, but she did always trust him.

The tears couldn't be controlled now. She thought she'd cried them all in the last few days, but she was wrong. Nothing could've prepared her for this final goodbye.

She sobbed harder than she had in her entire life. But then, she'd never before loved anyone the way she loved him.

She'd never tell anyone, mainly for fear no one would believe her. But as she lay there, she could've sworn she felt a hand on her shoulder that she wasn't sure was an angel, a ghost or even her hopeful imagination.

But whatever it was or wasn't, she knew it was his way of telling her everything was somehow going to be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

sorry for the delay. life and sickness got in the way. thanks always for the feedback. you know i love it.

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**Author:** Alison

**Disclaimer:** Characters belong to DC, CW, AlMiles, etc., etc., etc. My cat visited Keith Urban in rehab. He's writing a special song just for her. Nicole is jealous.

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**Part 2**

The car pulled up to the bright little farmhouse. She cut the engine and stepped out, opening the back door and removing the empty boxes and bags. She'd cleaned most of the house that morning and later she took the leftover food, what could be salvaged from sitting out most of the night, to the local orphanage. They needed it worse than her and Clark.

She didn't feel rested, but she didn't feel tired either. She really just felt numb. It'd already been a long day, and it was only a quarter to ten o'clock in the morning as she walked up the creaky old wooden porch steps into the house.

She'd rolled on her back that morning in the dimness, staring at the ceiling. Well, not really at it, so much as through it.

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Five o'clock. She laughed softly to herself and closed her eyes.

He would've been kissing her as he left to do his morning chores. He would've been telling her to go back to sleep. He just…would've been there.

But he wasn't.

She had slowly opened her eyes, focusing on the swirled pattern of the ceiling in the darkness of the early morning. He was gone and wasn't coming back. She knew that.

It was also clear to her that life goes on, even when you wish it wouldn't.

She sighed and sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She'd cried herself to sleep at some point during the night because she was still wearing her funeral clothes. She rose off the bed and walked to the bedroom door, opening it.

That's when she saw them. Whether or not he'd meant for her to see, she did. She probably would've been able to figure it out anyway, mother's intuition and all. She kind of already had an inkling that something was going on, judging by how much time they'd spent together in the weeks prior to Jonathan's death.

Clark barely glanced her way as he carried a sleeping Lois into his bedroom. They both looked worn out. She watched as he laid Lois on his bed, removed her boots and set them in the floor. He slowly pulled the covers over her. He still didn't look up at his mother as he removed his shoes and also let them drop to the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back against the headboard.

Her heart sank as he reached for Lois's hand and gently held it in his own, lightly stroking her hair with his other hand. It reminded her so much of…

She sighed.

At least they had each other, even if neither realized it.

She shook her head of her thoughts and reached for the cleaner and sponge under the kitchen sink. Spraying the stovetop, she glanced up momentarily and saw it there. She didn't mean to, but there it was in plain sight.

It would've never been given a second glance or thought before. It was nothing out of the ordinary.

But now, his old brown barn coat hung on the hall tree in the living room as a reminder that he'd never reach for it again as he went out to feed the cows or haul the hay.

She really had no idea she was scrubbing the stove. In fact, she could barely remember cleaning the house that morning. It was just keeping her occupied. It was something to do. If she was cleaning, she didn't have to think about him…that much.

But she never heard Lois until she was standing right in front of her.

"Mrs. Kent?"

She quickly glanced up and smiled faintly at the younger girl.

"Oh, good morning, Lois. Would you like something to eat? I can whip up some pancakes for you, if you like?"

It'd be something else to keep her busy. Anything to keep her busy. She just didn't want to have that lull where the thoughts could come creeping in. She was getting tired of all the crying.

"Oh, no thanks, Mrs. Kent." Martha continued to scrub the stove, rubbing spots she knew had been there for years, but maybe with a little extra elbow grease, some determination and frustration, they'd finally come out. "You know, I don't think it's gonna get any shinier." It's not that she didn't hear Lois talking. But, she was just…in her own world at the moment, and it was difficult to answer the girl. "Mrs. Kent?" Lois paused. "Okay, I'm sure Mr. Clean would be proud, but this has gotta stop." She took the sponge out of Mrs. Kent's hand and threw it in the nearby kitchen sink.

Martha sighed as she placed her hand to her head.

"I'm sorry, Lois. It's just…" She paused, sighed and looked just inside the living room. Lois followed her gaze to his old brown barn coat. "...everything here reminds me. It's not that I don't want to remember. I guess, now that he's gone, I'm just afraid I'm going to forget."

She turned and walked to the end of the island, sitting on one of the bar stools and placing her head in her hands.

Jonathan would tell her she's overreacting. He'd say you never forget those you love and that they'll see each other again some day.

But the past tense of those statements only reminded her that it's what he _would_ have said…if he only were there.

She felt Lois's hand rest on her shoulder.

"Mrs. Kent, I promise you'll never forget. No matter what happens…you will never forget."

She tried hard to hold them back. But the harder she held in the tears, the more they wanted to flow.

Lois was right. Her words were so true and sounded just like something he would've said. No wonder Clark wanted to stay with her so much. She could see now just how much he needed her.

Martha looked up and met Lois's comforting gaze. She briefly glanced down and nodded. She needed to cry, but, oh, how she didn't want to. Not anymore. She was sick of the tears. They'd been flowing for nearly a week now.

Lois must've noticed. The young girl slowly reached out to Martha and drew her into a hug. Martha slid off the bar stool and embraced her. She hugged her tightly for a moment, and then pulled away.

She quickly wiped her eyes, keeping her head down as she sniffed back the few remaining tears that wanted to fall.

"Have you seen Clark this morning?"

She could tell Lois probably wanted to ask it sooner. He'd left as she was packing up the food to take to the orphanage. Lois must've still been asleep.

"He finished up his chores earlier this morning, then he said he had somewhere he needed to go to think about some things. I'm not too sure where that is though."

She kind of had an idea of where it was, but she couldn't be sure.

"Mrs. Kent, are you going to be okay? I mean, I need to run some errands, but I can come back later and help you around here if you--"

"No, Lois." Martha smiled appreciatively. "It's okay. I'll be fine." Lois smiled and nodded as Martha reached for her cup of coffee on the island from earlier in the morning. She watched as Lois removed her coat from the hall tree and threw it on as she walked to the door. Lois grasped the doorknob, but hesitated briefly as she took her keys out of her pocket. "Besides, Clark needs you more than I do right now."

Lois froze in the doorway.

And there it was.

She knew neither of them realized it.

Martha smiled, crossed her ankles and leaned against the kitchen island as she sipped her coffee.

"Uh…whatd'ya mean?"

As if the girl didn't know. She knew Lois was smarter than that. Or maybe she just didn't want to admit it. She was pretty sure Clark probably didn't either. But they seemed to bring something out in each other. Lois definitely brought something out in Clark that no other girl was able to do.

Martha sighed. She wouldn't push. She'd just nudge.

"Just go to him, Lois. You may be the only one that can get through."

Lois stared at Martha briefly, then dropped her gaze and slowly walked out the door. She was sure her words would ring through Lois's head for the rest of the day, perhaps longer.

But it was the truth. When Clark carried Lois into his bedroom, his demeanor was entirely different from the night before. Martha had tried to reach for his hand in the car on the way home from the funeral, but he pulled away.

But he'd held Lois's hand as she slept. Somehow, she'd cracked his wall and gotten through.

There was something about that girl. There was something about that boy, too. She wondered if someone else close to the two of them had noticed. She'd have to make a phone call.

Because two people who have that kind of effect on one another, who can break seemingly unbreakable walls around a heart, well, those people have something most only dream of, but never realize.

She glanced once more at his coat in the living room. His absence was unbearable at times. She missed him like she'd never thought she could. He'd laugh at the thought of Lois and Clark. But, if he'd seen them that morning, and witnessed the change in his son, then maybe he would've agreed with her.

She sighed as she sipped her coffee and picked up the phone. She would never push. But a slight nudge never hurt, especially when it was in the best interest of those you love.

After all, as they used to tell each other during difficult and unpredictable times, quoting one of her favorite songs, "all will be well. You could ask me how, but only time will tell."


End file.
